Classic
by Genesis Grey
Summary: Mika. Tohma. And classical music in the middle of the night.


::Classic::

Mika opened her eyes and looked at the empty space beside her on the bed. Slowly her hand crept over and felt the ruffled sheets. Cold. Tohma hadn't been there for sometime. She sat up, pushing her unruly hair behind her ears as she looked at the clock. 4:42 am. For a moment she wondered what had woken her, then she heard it. The muffled sounds of a piano.

She swung her legs off the bed and pressed her cold feet into soft slippers as she stood up, clumsily walking to the bedroom door as her mind fully awoke. Pressing the door open she could hear the sounds of the piano clearly. It was a classical piece by Mozart or Tchaikovsky or one of the other dead European men she could never remember. She had been raised on traditional Japanese music and loud rock, the classical music Tohma liked to play was beautiful, but she could never remember anything about it. To her the music was just distinctly Tohma. 

As she walked out of the bedroom she noticed that none of the lights appeared to be on in the apartment other than a dim reading light in the living room where the piano was. She pressed her hand against the wall to keep from bumping into anything. She feared turning on a light would disrupt Tohma. When he was playing was the only time she ever hesitated to disrupt him. 

When she finally caught sight of her husband she frowned. He was having another fit of insomnia. The dim light darkened the light bags under his eyes making him look a thousand years older than he should have. She leaned against the wall as she silently watched him play. He was playing a soft and gentle piece, like a lullaby for himself, but there was a sad undertone. His fingers moved over the keys like they were dancing to the music they created, resting when the note was held and becoming active again when the music tittered excitedly. 

Occasionally the music would hold for a touch longer than it should, signs of his exhaustion. Mika opened her eyes, not realizing she had closed them. She had become absorbed in the beautiful music. She watched her husband again, wondering when the last time he slept well was. His insomnia had always been hideous, to the point they had actually gone to a doctor that had prescribed sleeping pills. Not that Tohma took them unless it was absolutely necessary; Mika could see that from the nearly full bottle of pills in the bathroom. She stifled a sigh. 

She hated herself for it, but sometimes she was grateful for his insomnia. It gave her mind a tangible reason for why he spent so much time at the office other than the horrible fear he wished to avoid her or was having an affair. The fears were foolish and completely without merit, but emotions rarely paid attention to the logic of a situation. 

Mika crouched down as Tohma stopped playing for a moment. He stared down at the piano as if looking for some hidden answer and Mika could see from the slouch in his shoulders that he was exhausted beyond belief. She smiled slightly, wondering if he really thought he was getting past her to go to work in the morning. 

Others might not be able to tell, but she could always see when those fake smiles weren't as brilliant as they should be. When the emotions started to seep though the cold exterior. She would never tell him that, of course, better to let him think no one had broken the secret code of his expressions. Better to let him think she was still a bit foolish, even after all the years of marriage. Tohma loved his secrets as much as she did hers, not that they were truly any good at keeping them from one another, but the illusion was there and comforting. 

The music began again and Mika lifted her head. This piece she knew. Chopin's nocturne. Tohma had played it after they'd come back from New York to help her sleep, when her insomnia had kept her awake for nearly three days straight and the amount of cigarette butts in the ashtray had become obscene. The music had eased her mind, helping her forget all the problems just long enough that she could drift off to sleep. 

There were moments when she wished she could do the same for him. Play the piano until he was able to fall asleep; recordings didn't have the same feel to them. She smirked as she tried to imagine herself playing the piano. Without Tohma's patience she would just end up kicking the instrument for not playing right. As it was she'd nearly broken her foot kicking the leg of the piano a week ago. 

The nocturne ended and Tohma's fingers moved idly over the keys with no particular song in mind. It was a confused sound, beautiful, but once again his exhaustion was showing though. Finally the miscellaneous notes seemed to flow together into actual music. 

Mika looked up again as she pushed herself to her feet. Tohma needed to sleep, even if that meant she had to interrupt his music. His insomnia was going to be the death of him. She walked forward and laid a hand on his shoulder, she felt the muscles spasm slightly in surprise, but other than that he gave no sign he noticed her. 

She sighed as she sat down next to him on the piano bench and wrapped her arms around herself. It was cold in the living room, the chill had finally gotten to her. She wanted to go back to bed where it was nice and warm, though it wouldn't be as warm without Tohma. She closed her eyes and listened to the music as she tried to think of what to say. With her brother's it was easy. She was the eldest sibling, she could say whatever she wanted and kick them when they didn't listen. When they were younger she could drag them off to bed and sit on them until they either passed out or promised to sleep. Now Eiri slept half the day and Tatsuha feared her nagging. She smiled slightly until the music hit a particularly sullen note and she remembered the problem at hand. 

Opening her eyes she watched Tohma's hands on the keys, the way his fingers only lightly touched the ivory to keep the melody going. She'd always loved his hands. They were soft and delicate, not like a man's hands at all. They felt so gentle when they touched her; even the slightest touch on her arm sent electricity though her body. She shook the thoughts away. Her tired mind was trailing from the question of how to get Tohma to bed. 

Her eyes followed his hands again as she tried to think. Her temperamental ways never worked with him and she couldn't nag him into sleeping, both approaches had failed miserably in the past, leaving her to feel a bit silly for even trying them. If she asked he would only give a polite denial of her request, but he would smile and fool her into thinking he would eventually do as she asked. She frowned and absentmindedly wonder which of the dead Europeans composed the music her husband was playing. 

"It's Beethoven in C minor," Tohma said suddenly, as if reading her mind. "I know you can never remember the composers that well." 

From anyone else Mika would have taken the last comment as a jab at her intelligence and promptly beaten the person into the ground or at least hit them a time or two with her car. But with Tohma it was simply a statement of truth. It also gave her an opening to speak. 

"Ah, I wouldn't have guessed that," she said softly as he continued to play. "It's rather late… Tohma…" 

"Am I keeping you awake?" he asked, not looking up at her, but she could hear the slightest tint of worry in his voice. Another sign of how tired he was, the emotion was showing. 

"No, not really," she sighed, wishing she knew what to say as she leaned her head on his shoulder. "It's just a bit chilly in the bedroom," she said, hoping he would understand what she meant and not tell her to turn up the thermostat. 

The music filled the silence between them as Mika closed her eyes and waited for a response. "Let me finish this piece," he said quietly as the music moved into an excited flutter and died down again for a moment before it moved on. "I think I'm a little tired." 

An ironic smiled pulled on Mika's lips and she was glad Tohma couldn't see it in the dim light, not that he was looking at her. She adjusted her head on his shoulder so it was easier for him to play and waited out the music. 

It was a perfect illustration of their relationship, she decided. Her and Tohma and the music of the dead Europeans alone in the dead of night, unable to sleep, touching but never quite sharing as the music remained between them. It was beautiful. 

--- 

Author's Notes: Eh, what can I say… been listening to a lot of Beethoven and Chopin lately. Kind of a lame fic, I know, but I think I sort of like it… as a short character piece anyway. Hate the title though... I can never think of good titles... I decided on Classic because of the music and because their relationship is just so... Classic to me. I wrote this mostly because, well besides I wanted to and had a vision 4:42 in the morning, because my Tatsuha and Ryuichi fic is not doing what I want it too… *shakes fist* Anyway, comments are always appreciated… need to improve my writing and all. ^_^ 


End file.
